


Ruining the Compulsion to Ruin Things

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, Dorothea centric, Friendship, M/M, Relationship Advice, The Tin Man has a Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: When Dorothea receives an invitation for coffee from Hubert, of all people, she's certain he's going to kill her. But, as it turns out, he needs her help not killing his chance at a romantic relationship.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Ruining the Compulsion to Ruin Things

When Dorothea received an ominous text from Hubert, she only _half_ assumed she was going to die. 

When Hubert von Vestra randomly asked you for coffee by not asking, but demanding, you assumed it was to be your last drink.  
Dorothea would have preferred a daiquiri, but coffee wasn’t a bad alternative.

So there she sat, anxiously awaiting what was sure to be her death, steaming cappuccino in her hand. She took a sip and stared out the window, ignoring the idle chatter of the other patrons in the warm coffee shop.

Outside, the world was being slowly blanketed in white. The snow lingered even as it neared Valentine’s Day, showing no sign of melting anytime soon. Passersby snuggled up to their loved ones for warmth, whether under umbrellas or not.  
Dorothea’s heart ached inside her chest, a sort of yearning she couldn’t put into words but one that threatened to consume here.

It was in her mind that she didn’t notice him approaching until he sat across from her, silent in his normal, vampire-esque wear. She stifled a shriek, hiding it in a gasp.

“God, Hubert. Hi.” She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her hand pressed to her heart.  
“Hello, Dorothea.” Hubert greeted, curtly. He’d been given a black mug with no personality to it. Just as his demeanor suggested.  
She centered herself as she always did: took control of the situation. “I know you hate chit-chat, so I’ll cut to the chase. Why did you want to see me? To be frank, Hubie, you never really wanna see me in private.” 

Hubert gave a small smile, but Dorothea couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. It nearly looked nervous.

“Yes. I...need your help.”  
It felt as if time stopped. She _couldn’t_ be hearing that right.  
“You need... _my_ help?”  
“Yes. In...matters of the heart.”

Dorothea tried not to show how words from such a man amused her. He _was_ nervous! Oh, how delightful!  
“Well, in that, I’m quite skilled. What would you like to know? An aria to woo them? Seduction tactics?” Dorothea lowered her voice at that, batting her eyelashes.

Hubert was woefully unaffected.

“Nothing like that. You see, I noticed I have...a tendency. It has been pointed out to me that I am not...good at letting others enjoy things. As you put it, I...ruin things.”  
It seemed to be a difficult thing for Hubert to admit. But it was certainly intriguing for Dorothea.  
“Oh. Um. What happened?”

Hubert rested his fingers on his forehead, furrowing his brow.  
“I have developed feelings for someone.”  
“Who?”  
“That is none of your business.”  
“How do you expect me to help you if I don’t know who you’re trying to woo?”  
Hubert’s mouth thinned into a line.  
“You make a fair assessment.”

He spoke as formally as his clothes suggested. Dorothea took a sip of her coffee while he obviously debated. His head bobbed slightly back and forth, a tic he clearly didn’t realize he had, otherwise he would never be showing it to her.  
He didn’t trust anyone that much, least of all Dorothea.

“Have you met Ashe Ubert?”

Dorothea choked on her coffee. The only sign of concern on Hubert’s face was a slight widening of his eyes while she spluttered.  
After too long of a moment, Dorothea wiped her face with a napkin, knowing she would need to reapply her lipstick.

“Ashe? The florist who made me brownies two days after we met?”  
“Yes.”  
“The one who owns a flower shop and helps stray cats?”  
“Yes.”  
“The one who-”  
“I understand the picture, Dorothea,” Hubert hissed. “He is the closest thing we have on this earth to an angel. And that is why I do not wish to upset him.”  
“Well what did you do?”

Hubert sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. The first real drop of his composure. A very human gesture she would tuck away for later.

“I learned his favorite poet. Edgar Allan Poe.” He mumbled.  
“Oh! Well that’s darker than I expected his taste to be, but it’s respectable. What’s the problem with that?”  
“All I wanted to tell him was that Poe married his cousin.”  
“He _what_?”

“Poe married his young cousin.” Hubert repeated, looking at her like she was stupid. His patience was clearly wearing thin, as she noticed it did when he - albeit, rarely - spoke of matters of the heart. She’d only noticed it from afar, when he was speaking to Ferdinand, who tended to pry it out of him rather than gently coax it out of him.

“Okay, that’s not great. But why did you want to tell Ashe that?”  
For the first time in Dorothea’s three years of knowing him, Hubert looked desperate, near defeated. He put his arms on the table and buried his face in the shelter of them.  
“I don’t know,” he groaned, muffled. “I didn’t tell him, thank goodness. For some unknown reason, I wanted him to know.”  
“What stopped you, then?” Dorothea asked. He looked up and met her eyes. His expression was pitiful, but if he knew she pitied him, he would leave immediately and their conversation would be over.  
“The thought of…” Hubert sighed. “The thought of his smile going away.”

In a strange way, her heart warmed. Hubert not only had feelings, he had _tender_ feelings. Even his voice softened when he spoke of the florist in question. Dorothea had enough experience to recognize a man in love.

“So you prevented that from happening. What’s the problem?”  
“I have a certain compulsion. I...have been told I ruin things. I normally don’t mind in the slightest, but…” He trailed off, staring into the depths of his coffee like it held the secrets of the universe.  
“It’s Ashe.” Dorothea supplied.  
“Right. It’s Ashe.”

Dorothea trailed her finger along the rim of her cup, furrowing her brow. She had to come up with something he could relate to so that he wouldn’t hurt Ashe’s feelings.  
Even if Ashe didn’t return Hubert’s affections, Hubert deserved to be let down in a gentler fashion than a fierce rejection.

“Hubert, tell me one of your hobbies. Anything you’re interested in.” Dorothea asked, looking back up into his thin eyes.

“I don’t see how that would help, but...I enjoy bookbinding.” He answered, clearly thrown off guard.  
“Right. Well, imagine you were getting passionate about bookbinding and sharing about your interests, and someone told you that it was stupid and pointless to do. How would you feel?”

He tucked his thumb under his chin and thought for a moment, face a mask of deep consideration.  
“Ah, I think I understand what you’re getting at. Telling Ashe bad facts about his favorite things is roughly equivalent to insulting his hobbies.”  
“Yes, exactly!” Dorothea struggled to keep her voice down, thrilled that he understood.

Hubert took another drink of his coffee and gave her a slightly awkward smile.  
“You have my thanks, Dorothea. I think I better understand what I should do, now. Should you ever need a favor in return from me, feel free to contact me.”

Hubert stood, throwing a twenty dollar bill on the table, and strode out, not once looking back. Dorothea watched him walk down the street, his long black coat a stark contrast from the pillowy white snow.

Dorothea drained the last of her coffee with a smile etched onto her face.

If Hubert was going to attempt love, maybe it was her turn, as well. And maybe, just maybe, neither of them would ruin it.


End file.
